The Compendium
by Hayles1
Summary: A splattering of various plotlines and ideas I've had for pure and mixed HP fics. First up is a Dark Trio and oblivious!Voldemort, then who knows what I'll share with you? Maybe it'll be the infamous immortal Weasleys? Or, when Necromancer James Potter taught his beloved Lily how to make a horcrux? You'll only know if you peek. Beware of plot-bunnies and head-canons.
1. Against Order

I've decided to post up these stories and excerpts. I've been flirting with the idea for a while, and I thought since I've gotten into the mood to finally rewrite COS properly (about 12,000 words done at this point), why not? It was mostly as I was reading one of my many unfinished and 'stuck for plot' files. It's going to be a mix of things. So many mixes I might just keep this as one 'story collection'. I might branch out and dump another category collection if this is decent enough.

Summary for this collection: A splattering of various plotlines and ideas I've had for pure and mixed HP fics. First up is a Dark Trio and oblivious! Voldemort, then who knows what I'll share with you? Maybe it'll be the infamous immortal Weasleys? Or, when Necromancer James Potter taught his beloved Lily how to make a horcrux? You'll only know if you peek. Beware of plot-bunnies and head-canons.

* * *

Against Order

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (J. K. Rowling).

Summary: AU. Trio-some (Het & Slash); The Golden Trio were captives of Voldemort, beaten but not shattered-they were going to die and ready for it. They were together that was all that mattered. They had done their best to save the world. Then She came to them, with Her Sisters. From there, everything changed. The Trio would save the world-but who they were saving it for would be entirely different. Super/Dark Trio.

"Talking"

 _Thinking_

 _Timeline Note: This is set around the end of Book 6 HBP. Depending on how dark I make this; there may be cannibalism (okay it's actually very likely to appear)_

* * *

 _ **Chapter One: Alteration of Things Celestially Planned**_

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were in a commonly themed dungeon. Their clothes were caked with grime and dried blood, whilst also rather torn in places. They had been shackled, though that was only to increase the physical strain on their malnourished bodies. Someone had removed their socks and shoes, leaving them barefoot against the cold stones. Not that they had the strength to stand.

Hermione's hair being the longest was a mess, matted with dirt, blood and some better left unmentioned substances. Ron and Harry faired better, having shorter strands, though Harry's bird nest of hair was even worse than usual.

The three had been 'living' in this dank dungeon for a while, at least two months going on Hermione's internal body clock, and they were nearing their third month. They didn't talk much using their vocal chords, instead communicating through their body language and small (too small for anything to pick up or do much) sparks of magic between them. Their captors hadn't been down to see them since the first month, having exhausted their torture-enthusiasm and other matters. Harry got a dream-vision of Voldemort ordering the dungeons to be guarded, but for their prize 'guests' to be left to _rot_ , until the final stages of the war. Then when the time came, for their Dark Victory, the Trio's dungeon cell would be checked for either bodies or broken wizards. The magic in the room would keep them alive-they were not allowed the release of death.

Ron was dozing slightly when Hermione and Harry sent magical exclamations of surprise shooting down his spine, snapping the second youngest Weasley fully awake. Standing in the room was a big black and purple blob. The blob shifted and whirled until a human female with a pale front and dark-skinned back stood before them-in all her naked glory. The trio blinked as one at her. From the darkness another black shape, this time made of smoke like wisps shifted and twirled condensing into the form of a woman with deathly-pale skin stretched tightly over very prominent bones. This woman was also naked; a red blob dropped down off the ceiling like drool and formed another human female-with red skin in iridescent patterns. Ron soon noticed that there were many shapes moving across the ceiling, walls and floor of the cell. They were in the company of more than just these three women. Or beings that chose the form of women.

The two-toned being smiled at them, with that grace only a mother was capable of. Harry seemed to shrink back first-and the skeletal pale woman drifted over to him, choosing to gently cradle the wizard in her bony arms. They all sensed rather than guessed that the pale woman favoured Harry the most out of any other choice. They heard the whispered soothing tones rather than the words. The Trio knew who these beings were upon those whispers-even the ones that had not yet taken form.

The question of what these beings wanted, could easily be answered as the two-toned woman offered her hand forward. Before their capture and subsequent abandonment by both enemy and ally to this dank cell the Trio would have never taken that hand-these beings would have never appeared to them at all. The Trio was too weak to physically move enough-but together they reached across the gap with their magic in a unanimous decision. Upon contact with the entity extending their hand-the human forms fell away and together the wisps, sludge, water, blobs and smoke converged over the Trio; _devouring them_.

* * *

A Death-Eater by the name of Thames Ursa, ranked quite high in the Dark Hordes for his interrogation skills was investigating a noise in one of the cells. Some of the lower-ranked death-eater's were going on rounds to clean up the corridors (House Elves had developed a habit of freeing prisoners in some of the United Kingdom's bases) and check on the less interesting prisoners.

Thames tracked the noise down to one of the storage cupboards in the guard's rooms. "Ah." It looked like someone had left a music box open. The miniature figure of Merlin danced with Morgan le Fay across a mini-glade with Common Unicorns and Black Forest Unicorns in the background. A childhood fairytale, in the children's tales until after a certain age people tended to leave out the separation of the two lovers wanting to preserve that childhood hope that love conquers all. Muggles seemed to think that these two despised one another-what fools!

Elsewhere in the dungeons, a Death-Eater was staring at an open cell door. A door that was supposed to be locked, with the cell occupied by three people-upon closer inspection of the spectacle, one would notice that the dark wizard has plastered his back to the wall opposite the door in an attempt to distance himself from whatever was going on inside the cell. His companion, a witch, is in the room with the prisoner occupants.

The occupants had gathered around the witch, the imprisoned witch had begun to carve up the thigh of the female death-eater with her still-attached shackles. Her fellow prisoners, the tallest had hold of the captor-turned-captive's right arm-he was gnawing away at her wrist with teeth that should _not_ be that sharp.

The slighter male was idly going through the woman's abdomen pulling out her vital organs-at times he would offer various internal body parts he'd removed to his companions. The magic in the room kept the Death-Eater alive and her vocalisations silent to those outside of the room.

Another Death-Eater finished with their tasks came to check on her companions-only to double back and rush to get to the upper floors with the news.

Lord Voldemort will want to know of this development.

Question was-how did the door that only Voldemort himself could open, _open?_

* * *

Hermione, Harry and Ron stood before the Inner Circle of Death-Eaters and Voldemort. Harry was absent-mindedly licking at the blood lingering on his fingertips. Lucius Malfoy was the one to levitate in the prepared muggle at the slight signal from his Lord. This test was to see how readily the Trio would follow directions. Lucius tried to command them to kill the man-unsurprisingly the Trio didn't follow his directions. Bellatrix was the one to give the better instructions, assisted by Narcissa. The Trio had come from the 'Light'; they had no teaching in the art of torture or pain infliction. Bella's baby-talk didn't seem to affect Harry anymore.

With permission from the Dark Lord, the two mistresses of the Black Lineage took the Trio away to another wing of the base. The Trio still didn't speak aloud; Bella diagnosed them with having damaged vocal chords. The two witches healed the three up as best as they were allowed to on their orders from the Dark Lord.

Voldemort wanted them present, particularly Harry, as a show of his power and influence during delegations with the vampire clans of Southern France. The two female Inner Circle members weren't exactly confident about the event, having not completely finished teaching the muggle-raised pair of the trio how to act in company-and politely or subtly inform others that none of them were eligible for courting. They had originally been trying to teach Hermione how to accept courting proposals properly, when Ron had thrown a wrench in the works. Then Harry threw another bigger one in.

The Trio went to Voldemort; the Dark Lord wanted them to sit at his feet like slaves. They decided to sit around him-like his children would do if he were to have them. They ignored all orders-the deciding factor came when Nagini in her native snake tongue, decided for herself to treat the Trio indulgently. Voldemort's adopted brood was born. It took some getting used to.

Still. The Trio were present for the vampire clans' delegation. The clans moved into the meeting hall of the Dark Lord's chateau in Southern France, it was all going to plan, discussions in action when Ron entered the room, Hermione crashing into his back followed by Harry's collision behind her, sending all three tumbling to the floor at the feet of the clan collective's main speaker. Voldemort and his Inner Circle dare not move, though Lucius had to pull his wife back-indirectly reminding the Dark Lord himself not to move either. The vampires as a whole stared down at the three youngsters, before the eldest present-the one acting as the main representative helped the three to their feet.

The second in elected command of the collective clans turned to address the Dark Lord and his most trusted, after regarding the trio for a moment. "You have our allegiance until things beyond the control of the mortal and physical planes desire otherwise."

Voldemort later wondered what the vampires saw in the trio to make them so suddenly change their minds between leaving-to allying. Even in the following weeks of solidifying their alliance, the vampires treated their allies with respect but little reverence-unless Ron, Hermione or Harry was present. The Clan Elders debated with the Dark Lord, but yielded to the trio. It was something that started to make Voldemort realise that the trio had definitely not _broken_. Or at least not in the manner he thought they had. The subsequent events following the vampire delegations started making the rest of Voldemort's Dark Hordes recognise that the trio was not truly Dark-aligned. But they weren't Light anymore either.

The werewolves' submissive body language; Nagini's indulgence-a trip to the Nacht Forest Base in Germany; where the denizens of the forest paid a great deal of attention to the trio-and Voldemort's own desires to care for them. This wasn't natural-wait. That was it. This behaviour was completely unexpected of the Golden Trio-Voldemort froze in place before tearing out of his room, running passed a rather stunned Snape. His robes nearly tripped him in his haste to reach the apparition point-only barely remembering to double back and grab several of his present Inner Circle.

Hermione, Ron and Harry were leading the attack today. He had to stop them-everything could not go as he'd planned. They'd played him, and he so wanted to torture them but he couldn't. Those _feelings_ and _attachments_ held him back.

Purebloods were traditionally Pagan, Muggleborns could be anything, but generally tended to bring their muggle religions with them. That trio though-whatever they believed in before they were captured had become ineffectual. He arrived on the battlefield too late-Harry looked over at his 'father'. He spoke in a quiet voice, from disuse, but the knowledge of whom, of _what_ was talking to him made fear and terror shoot down Voldemort's spine deep into his being. "Hello, _dad;_ I sense you've unveiled secrets. Would you like me to hide them from you again?"

Voldemort was very tempted by the offer. Ron noticed their conversation, but paid it no mind-as if he'd seen it all before. Voldemort had a feeling the redheaded boy had indeed been through this before, such a thought was _terrifying_. These three young magic-wielders had been average or above-average before their capture, but now…now they held nothing to hold them back, there was no entity living or dead that could hold a candle to their flame-that would dare to. Those that would be on par with them…would help them in their plans.

But no, he had to protest, to keep his memories so he could try and warn someone-

"Dad what are you doing here? I thought this was our raid to lead?" His adopted daughter Hermione asked confused and slightly worried-she was such a thoughtful girl.

- _What_ had he come here for? Surely he had a reason to leave the chateau? Some of his Inner Circle was with him…ah; he must be here to check up on his delightfully dark little brood of adopted children. This was their first solo mission after all, he must have been worrying himself stupid waiting back at their current base.

"I've come to see your progress." Yes that seemed like the right answer…why did it feel like the context of it was a little off though? Were his little brood planning something behind his back? Hermione's intelligent eyes watched him carefully, worried over something. So they _were_ plotting something behind his back. Voldemort narrowed his slightly luminescent eyes at her. "What are you doing that you didn't want me to discover?"

"It was going to be a surprise." Hermione murmured glancing at where Ron was dealing with a captive. "If you leave now you could still act surprised when we return home with her."

"Her?"

"Oh yes, you'll be able to get quite a bit of information from her with the right persuasion."

"The way the three of you behave makes me curious…you used to be such _good little Light Wizards_."

Hermione regarded him for another moment before answering. "You can never truly know someone completely. We all played our parts before the opportunity arose to act how we truly wanted to. Under Dumbledore we never had that chance, restricted and made to conform by our elders and peers, but now we're away from that environment we can finally be whatever we chose to be. We've never properly thanked you for that…without you we'd still be trapped under the rules, regulations and expectancies that once dominated us."

There was something suspicious about her wording-she never once mentioned being on his side, but she was caught up in the thrill of battle and he was right in front of her…perhaps she hadn't felt the need to reinforce his confidence in her attachment to him. She was a Riddle now and not a Granger. Yes, everything was fine, he had no reason to doubt their allegiance or motives; they were merely taking care of their beloved adoptive father.

…Their beloved _fool._

* * *

…And done! Seriously, I can't remember where I was going with this. But according to my computer/laptop, this was created 27-06-2011. So, I haven't a clue what the heck was going on in my head that day.


	2. Secret Nation (APH& Slashy-ish) Arthur?

**Secret Nation**

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (JKR) or Hetalia (Himaruya)._

 _Summary: There were reports of a criminal young man running around the United Kingdom. He was wanted all over Europe for trying to kill several politicians. Of course to find out that the guy occasionally lived with England right under their noses was irritating. The guy knew Nations existed, and always insisted on calling England 'Albion'. How was anyone who didn't understand magic supposed to know Albion and Avalon had a long-standing connection and relationship?_

"Talking"

 _Thinking_

Arthur/Harry

Hints of Canada/Prussia/Hungary, Ame/Russ/Can, Russ/Can, Ame/Nat Ame, Hun/Austria, Can/Prussia, France/Everyone, Spain/Romano, Ger/Ita, Sweden/Finland (well maybe not all of these just yet)

 _Timeline/Important dates notes (these were originally for myself, I'm not very good regarding American history):_

1607 Great Britain colonises America

Salem Witch Trials: Feb 1692 to May 1693

American War of Independence/Revolutionary War: April 1775 to Sept 1783

Independence Day: July 4th 1776

American Civil War: April 1861 to May 1865

 _ **P.S: Beware the in-your-face slash; though its not graphic and more implied, there is still yaoi/malexmale of the hand-holding type). Hetero preferals, avoid this chapter for your own comfort and sanity (serious prior to my foray into slash fics I came across a Sladin on mediaminer and was horrified and sickened. So yes, hetero-preferals I can understand your revulsion though I myself no longer suffer/experience it) get your arses out of here now.**_

 _ **!**_

 _ **!**_

 _ **Hetero-preferals gone? Okay, carry on.**_

* * *

 _ **Arthur?**_

Harry wakes up in Kings Cross Station, to the little horcrux and Dumbledore's spirit. The place shimmers and ripples. Harry blinks as Dumbledore suddenly stops mid-word. "Ah, do you remember yet Harry?"

"…I…I think so? Did you always know, sir?"

"I wasn't sure until your third year, the Tournament confirmed it."

"Oh, the weird thing with Fleur…"

"Harry, it is not often that a normal wizard is able to resist the charms of a Veela before his maturity. It is even more unusual for the Veela in question to throw herself at the same wizard and not be offended when turned down. Let us not forget the Goblins rather strange fondness for you…or the first major clue being young Remus-"

"Snape's face was hilarious!"

"Oh Harry; only you would be able to distract a werewolf with a tennis ball."

"Professor, what do I do now?"

"Well, you can board a train and begin anew with another human lifetime…or you can go back. Though in your goals to sort out the Magical World you have become somewhat of a criminal in the eyes of the Muggle one, I do not think it will be simple to resolve."

"…Albion is gonna kill me, if he doesn't make me walk the plank."

"I do believe Mister Kirkland modernised with the rest of the world, Harry."

"He'll revert just to kick my arse. Despite the fact he's no longer a world superpower; the United Kingdom is still the focal point of the Magical World."

"Ah, young love."

"Oi! I'm older than you!"

"Of course Harry, of course."

"You're almost as bad as Pangaea was."

* * *

Arthur is awoken by his doorbell ringing at three in the morning. He swears and curses whoever it is, even as he opens the door, only to freeze at the sight of the century-absent Magical Nation.

Harry is greeted by a punch to the face and more swearing.

* * *

The Countries' bosses are pressing on them to work together to capture the International Criminal _Harold 'Harry' James Potter_. The man is still at large and extremely dangerous since he was able to gain access into otherwise secure premises and attempt assassination of several high level politicians and government agents/workers.

England however is suddenly feeling less easy about assisting. The face on America's PowerPoint presentation is the same face that is currently living with him between his attempts to restore stability to his endemic population. He's feeling even more uneasy when it turns out that some of the times that the _criminal_ has struck political safe-houses, is also when he is _not at Arthur's house_.

Arthur can't really do anything, politically his hands are tied. He is harbouring a global fugitive in his house (on occasion) but that fugitive _technically_ isn't breaking any laws because he's a Nation dealing with the ramifications of a civil war. It just happens to be that his national borders are extremely loose and mostly hypothetical. Every nation in the world has a magical side, but not all National personifications are aware of that community. Wizards tend to grow up around the people of their location and identify with that populace, so they call themselves say _Hungarian_ , but this does not _make_ them Hungarian. Not completely at least if they are muggleborn or half-blooded. Pure-blooded wizards are considered _pure_ as they can trace their family line back to Avalonian origin; England, Norway and Romania tended to have the highest concentration of pure-bloods within their borders due to the agreement they had with Avalon first teaching them magic.

But Avalon had a lot of reason not to trust the _mundane_ countries. He also had a lot of reason to declare war if he so desired, but Avalon tended to avoid conflict with humans. Well, as long as those humans didn't do anything to his citizens.

Germany had managed to shout everyone into a compliant level of quietness to continue the discussion on what they'd do to track and eventually subdue the fugitive. However, in their usual loudness the countries had been unable to hear the commotion going on outside their conference room. With the new level of calm they could hear the noise from the corridor and the rest of the building. Gunshots and screaming, England would like to complain about how typical this seemed to be becoming for his former colony.

America being worried about his population moved and opened the door first. He was promptly kicked back into the room, a messy-haired head of black locks and startling green eyes dressed in what looked like leather crossed with black and green crocodile skin boots entered into the room, looked at them all, "Nope, none of you. Relax kids, I'm not after you. Go back to your pin the tail on the donkey or whatever it is you kids do nowadays." He blinked with a grin at the PowerPoint presentation of the international criminal on the wall. "Ha, they managed to catch my good side!" Before backing away and closing the door on his way. There seemed to be the sound of more doors opening and closing as the man searched that floor of the building. He managed four doors before the countries rallied with a cry of-

" _After him!"_

England sometimes wished that Avalon had never taken particular interest in him all those centuries ago. But the scream of the magical nation's latest target forced him to join in what he knew to be fruitless attempt to corner and capture the man. Avalon was the oldest nation in the world; he was even older than several _landmasses_. He still remembered the day the fairies led him to a glen where a child almost in his teens waited for him.

" _So you must be the one my folk have been speaking of, you are Albion are you not?"_

" _Y-yes…"_

" _That settles things then. Let's become mates."_

" _Mates?"_

" _Yeah, I think your kind call it hand fasting. Come on, we'll be together forever from now on. As my mate you get to learn stronger magic than anything I've yet to teach the others of your kind."_

" _But, hand fasting is between a man and a woman."_

" _We're mates, for my kindred we don't really care for that segregation. With our mate we finally become whole."_

" _Why me, everybody hates me, they throw rocks."_

" _Because you are Albion, and I am Avalon."_

Arthur almost face-palmed, Harry was not being subtle at all. He had an English bastard sword strapped to his back in a black leather scabbard, in fact that sword looked- _oh Merlin no._

Harry cornered his latest victim-likely another follower of Voldemort's global regime trying to infiltrate the Muggle world's political spectrum-and unsheathed the _breathtakingly beautiful_ sword. No human hand could have crafted such a blade, but Arthur knew it was _nothing_ compared to another sword sitting in one of his lakes. A gift given to him to signify their union, their _hand fasting_. Arthur gave Harry the first bloodlines of his future pure-bloods, and Harry gave Arthur the sword of a king.

The red-tinted bastard sword was encrusted with jewels and engravings. Made by goblin hand and craft, still nothing could ever compare to the sword that was forged literally using Avalon's _blood_. Harry wielded the Sword of Godric Gryffindor without flaw, but Arthur remembered how much more lethal Harry was with a dagger. Daggers after all resembled teeth and fangs more in shape and weight than a sword.

The probably-a-Death-Eater's head was smoothly and cleanly lopped from his shoulders, body and head falling in synch. The magical nation flicked his sword to dislodge the blood, causing it to splatter further up the walls. He had just finished sheathing his sword when Alfred tackled him. When two superpowers clash it gets ugly, when a mundane and _the_ magical superpower clash, it turns into a one-sided display of challenger's folly. The tackle was successful, the resulting broken right arm, nose, fractured jaw, black eye and dislocated shoulder along with severe abdominal bruising were proof enough to the Nations that this guy was no ordinary assassin.

That fact only his clothes were rumpled further cemented the fact this guy was way out of any human range. They briefly considered he was a parallel nation, but he spoke in a very light British accent and Arthur's counterpart Oliver had unfortunately already been a previous visitor to their world once before.

The green-eyed assassin jumped out of the window and vanished after they lost sight of him, _literally_ he was gone.

"We're going to need a better plan." France decided as everyone was torn between watching over the critically injured America and trying to search for the overpowered criminal.

* * *

Arthur always knew that Avalon would have issues with Alfred. Arthur had tried to stop the burnings and hunts, but Alfred had been rebellious and decided in an act of defiance to get involved _personally_. Native America already weakened from America's strengthening, only left alone because she had been _wild, raw and so very magical_ , she had the ability of a metamorphagus. She'd slip from her natural Native American appearance to look like what Arthur had always imagined his and Harry's children would look like. Green eyes and long windswept obsidian tresses…America hunted that Nation down and burnt her into an unrecognisable mess. She only existed in pockets now, barely recognisable to the wild and untamed beauty of magic that Avalon had created millennia ago when he left magic to prosper on the landmass. Native America was _crippled_.

Harry arrived to Arthur's house, specifically his bedroom with a pop of displaced air. Arthur _almost_ jumped, because he was a wizard too but he was half naked.

Avalon continues his cleansing of the corrupted wizards. He admits he misses the days of yore, before he had to hide. "Hey, Albion," the magical entity spoke up the next morning as he greeted England with his version of an English breakfast, which basically swapped the orange juice or tea for pumpkin juice, and the chicken eggs came from golden-egg-laying magical chickens. Avalon's food always tasted slightly silkier and empowering compared to his own, though that might be because it contained magic to enhance its flavour. His cooking had admittedly been influenced by Avalon's. No non-magical country or human had ever tasted Avalon's food, the magic within it being the only thing in it that made it edible. If you were magical then you just considered it tasty, if you were non-magical, like say _America_ or _France_ , then you'd choke on it and wonder how Avalon managed to survive since the dawn of the first sentient magical community.

England was used to his ancient name being used by Avalon, he only ever called him that or Arthur, even when he was an _empire_ spanning across most of the world. He hadn't heard it for a while though because Avalon dropped off the map around the time of the Bore Wars, and hadn't resurfaced until a few months ago proclaiming he'd missed Albion but he was unable to remember because he'd been living the life of a human wizard with his favourite pureblood bloodline. England had only taken this all in and decided that punching his frustration with his errant magical companion was the only viable option.

He'd had to deal with the whole mess of two world wars-which had an undercurrent of magic in the second one, Germany didn't even _know_ about it-the Cold War, though actually on that one Avalon just to spite America would've pushed for him to side with Russia. There was also the _Magical World War_ that started to cause absolute mayhem and disruption in all the countries as Light and Dark wizards fought for supremacy over each other, it was a bleedin' _civil war_ and Avalon was _nowhere_ to be seen. There was a thankfully godsend of a lull in the civil war, a cease fire when the leader of the Dark Wizards, _Voldemort_ got exorcised from his birth body by little Harold James Potter.

 _Harold James Potter_ who was actually Avalon playing mortal for the sake of his beloved Peverell-turned-Potter bloodline of pureblood wizards.

Avalon was lucky he didn't gut him for the whole mess. England had the worst time of it because he was the _strongest_ of the magical countries; in the world of technology and muggles, England and America had a _special relationship_ , but Avalon and England? They were _married_. Albeit by hand-fasting, but back in those days that was how you _got married_.

Ugh, the whole situation with Avalon was a great big _mess_. England took a gulp of pumpkin juice like it was liquid courage. He got started on his scrambled golden eggs, when Avalon decided to try and choke him without touching him physically.

"Let's renew our vows."

* * *

 _ **End of Chapter  
**_

I was umming and ahhing over sticking my crossover plots into this. Since I'm not getting any reviews, I thought screw it, no one obviously cares to give feedback or shout at me to update my other fics, so here you go, you can complain all you like now but you brought it on yourselves by giving no feedback.

Also, update on COS, I wrote eight hundred and seventy-three words earlier today. Mostly about Sakura and her Sasu/Saku feelings. Not a lot I know but the new plot is basically building on scratch because it's been ages and ages since I watched Naruto and even longer since I read Harry Potter.

But seriously, please feedback? Even though most of these are obviously plot ideas and not fully contructed things?


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